


Separate

by orphan_account



Category: The Beatles
Genre: Brotherly Love, Emotional Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Nicknames, Reminiscing, a lot of hurt/not a lot of comfort, they just want to be kids again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 00:39:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5607112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's 1969, The Beatles can't get along in the studio, George hides in the bathroom and John finds him. A lot can be said next to a toilet, but nothing can be fixed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Separate

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a response to a prompt on tumblr: "Could you do a sad one with George?"

**1969**

George sat on the dirty floor of the bathroom. He folded in on himself to fit in the tiny stall and yet his shoulders were still pinned between the toilet and door. It wasn’t the ideal moping place, but it had to do. There was nowhere else in Abbey Road to hide.

He heard the door of the restroom open and quiet footsteps that stopped right outside his hiding spot. John’s Converse were instantly recognizable.

“I know you’re in there,” John said.

George didn’t say anything.

“Come on out and talk to me,” John went on. “You really hurt Paul’s feelings by yelling at him back there. I don’t care about that, but I promised George I would scold you a bit.”

George untangled himself and opened the door for the sake of their producer.

“He thinks you’re still a kid,” John said.

“So does Paul,” George mumbled.

John shrugged. He ran a hand through his shoulder-length hair.

“Where’s your wife?” George asked. “She didn’t follow you in here?”

John’s eyes narrowed, but he managed to control his temper and visibly calmed.

“No.”

George hummed. He didn’t like getting John worked up over Yoko, but he could never resist mixing acid with his words when he spoke of her. If John got offended in the process – too bad.

George slumped against the stall.

“What’s wrong?” John asked. “Besides Paul being a git.”

“Not much besides that.”

“Just ignore him, George. You know how he is. Always has to have everything his way. Always has to have everything up to his standards.”

George furrowed his eyebrows. He spoke in a whisper. “What happened?”

John blinked. “What?”

“What the fuck happened, Johnny?”

The nickname hadn’t been said in such a tone for years.

“I don’t know, Georgie.”

“We used to love each other. Now we just make each other sick.”

John was silent.

“What happened?”

John looked down. His fingers closed around his glasses and slipped them off his nose. George stared. Behind the glasses and the beard and the hair, he knew John was still there. The John he knew since he was a kid. The John that comforted him through nights in Hamburg when the absence of parents was felt. The John that had tickled him awake many mornings when on tour. The John that made snide remarks at everyone’s expense but then smiled and made up for everything. The John before the latter half of the 60s and Brian’s death and Apple and Yoko and the weight loss no one really wanted to mention and all the other shit that happened.

“We know what’s going to happen,” John said. “But before it does, know that you shouldn’t regret anything. We were brothers once, we…”

John settled his glasses back on his nose. He sighed.

“We grew up.”

George opened his mouth to speak. He wanted to say he felt too young to feel so old. That none of them were really too far gone in age that they had to stop being friends. They just had different interests now and too many demons. He wanted to say that he wanted John to he his protector again and shield him because he was too naive and too young and “Maybe kids shouldn’t be in Germany after all, Paul. They miss their mothers too much.” He wanted to say how much he missed sleeping next to John every other night, the jokes between them, seeing Cynthia and the baby every week. He wanted to say he missed John’s old self. He wanted to say he missed his old self.

He wanted to say he was scared…

Isolated…

Lonely…

John turned on his heel and left the room. George slid to the floor, folding in on himself once again.

A week later they all had a call from Paul’s lawyer. He shouted into the phone, screaming that he was glad for the divorce and the breakup was official. He was sure John was doing the same.


End file.
